Sunday, 17 February 2019

Shamima





Shamima

Shamima Begum, when she was fifteen
Ran away to join the Islamic State.
To Syria she fled from Bethnal Green,
And she married into the Caliphate.
By an ISIS fighter, two children bore
Were killed in the fighting, Shamima said.
Since pregnant with a third, she’s fled the war,
Her husband’s been captured, her friend is dead.
She’s nineteen years old and a refugee,
And it’s been four years since she ran away;
She shrugs at severed heads apparently,
And she wants to come back to the UK.
School kid brainwashed via the internet?
An example of how messed up things get.


Sunday, 10 February 2019

If only




If only (an Acrostic)

Gove, goggle-eyed, left Surrey Heath,
Evenett exited waving goodbye,
Truss tumbled out not seen again,
Rudd, red-faced, left Hastings and Rye.
Iain Duncan Smith was instantly fired,
Davis, Drax, Dineage, discharged too,
Offord, Opperman, ostracised,
Fabricant, Fallon got flustered and flew.
Tolhurst, Throup, Thomson, trotted away,
Hinds, Hunt, Henderson, went to Hell,
Ellwood, Elphicke ended their terms,
Theresa May, toppled, tottered and fell.
O’Brien like Osborne, turned tail and fled,
Rees-Mogg snapped and resigned, conflicted,
Inside the House, human beings sit instead,
Every last Tory voted out and evicted,
Showing no remorse for suffering inflicted.

Tuesday, 5 February 2019

Victims of barbarity



Victims of barbarity (In memory of Stephen Smith)

The anguish and suffering 
Of those who fought and died
The peaceful hopes the visions
The Optimistic pride
The demands for a better life
Cried by those who didn’t fall
A welfare State an NHS
Declared for one and all

No more need for poverty
There was now a safety net
A hospital bed a doctor
Every citizen could get
Thanks to social awareness
Help was there for all in need
No matter their position
Their culture or their creed

This socialistic lifestyle
Was enjoyed for quite a while
But now something’s changed
And it’s going out of style
Many don’t want to pay
Into the system anymore
They see no need to help

The sick the needy or the poor

And so they vote for parties
Who tax them less and less
Year on year the system shrinks
With more and more regress
Those in need are looked on
With a cold contemptuous view
And labelled benefit scroungers
Who never pay their due  

Where has this resentfulness
Thus far led us now?
Sick people can’t get help
At least not without a row
Some live on next to nothing
With no welfare received
Others die in destitution
Having never been relieved

People shake their heads
And say it’s such a shame
They blame government policies
Then elect them just the same
And all the while the shrinking
Of the system carries on
Bit by bit it’s disappearing
And one day it will be gone

There’s a story in the paper
Of a man who lives alone
He’s been suffering from cancer
And he weighs all but six stone
The DWP decided
Though he was in great pain
He had to sign on “Fit for work”
Or sanctions would remain

I remember an old picture
Of a prisoner of war
The physical similarities
Are difficult to ignore
I wonder if that prisoner
Was one of those returned
Who hoped for a better future
With the poor no longer spurned

And as for the barbarians
And what they put him through
History’s judged them harshly
And we say quite right too
I hope that in the future
Today’s DWP
Will be justifiably labelled
For its own barbarity